Old Gorgon Graham eBook

I simply mention this in passing, because, as I have
said, you ain’t likely to be hiring men for
a little while yet. But so long as the subject
is up, I might as well add that when I retire it will
be to the cemetery. And I should advise you to
anchor me there with a pretty heavy monument, because
it wouldn’t take more than two such statements
of manufacturing cost as I have just received from
your department to bring me back from the graveyard
to the Stock Yards on the jump. And until I do
retire you don’t want to play too far from first
base. The man at the bat will always strike himself
out quick enough if he has forgotten how to find the
pitcher’s curves, so you needn’t worry
about that. But you want to be ready all the
time in case he should bat a few hot ones in your
direction.

Some men are like oak leaves—­they don’t
know when they’re dead, but still hang right
on; and there are others who let go before anything
has really touched them. Of course, I may be in
the first class, but you can be dead sure that I don’t
propose to get into the second, even though I know
a lot of people say I’m an old hog to keep right
along working after I’ve made more money than
I know how to spend, and more than I could spend if
I knew how. It’s a mighty curious thing
how many people think that if a man isn’t spending
his money their way he isn’t spending it right,
and that if he isn’t enjoying himself according
to their tastes he can’t be having a good time.
They believe that money ought to loaf; I believe that
it ought to work. They believe that money ought
to go to the races and drink champagne; I believe that
it ought to go to the office and keep sober.

When a man makes a specialty of knowing how some other
fellow ought to spend his money, he usually thinks
in millions and works for hundreds. There’s
only one poorer hand at figures than these over-the-left
financiers, and he’s the fellow who inherits
the old man’s dollars without his sense.
When a fortune comes without calling, it’s apt
to leave without asking. Inheriting money is
like being the second husband of a Chicago grass-widow—­mighty
uncertain business, unless a fellow has had a heap
of experience. There’s no use explaining
when I’m asked why I keep on working, because
fellows who could put that question wouldn’t
understand the answer. You could take these men
and soak their heads overnight in a pailful of ideas,
and they wouldn’t absorb anything but the few
loose cuss-words that you’d mixed in for flavoring.
They think that the old boys have corralled all the
chances and have tied up the youngsters where they
can’t get at them; when the truth is that if
we all simply quit work and left them the whole range
to graze over, they’d bray to have their fodder
brought to them in bales, instead of starting out
to hunt the raw material, as we had to. When
an ass gets the run of the pasture he finds thistles.